


Heretical

by Thalius



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Even Older Friends, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Old Lovers, One Shot, Pining, Satine Kryze Lives, Season 5 AU, Tumblr Prompt, jedi politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24478291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalius/pseuds/Thalius
Summary: Apparently Obi-Wan is someone who breaks rules now.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Comments: 12
Kudos: 285





	Heretical

**Author's Note:**

> S5E16 AU where Obi-Wan, Anakin and Ahsoka all travel to Mandalore to rescue Satine and she doesn't die, something I will be forever salty about. Based on a short tumblr prompt.

“What happens when we land on Coruscant?”

What indeed. He looked to Satine beside him; she hadn’t spoken since they’d boarded the ship, her eyes fixed on the viewport staring into hyperspace. She’d make herself lightheaded doing that, he thought. He sent her a small, calming nudge, then swivelled in his chair to face Anakin.

“I do the talking,” he replied, and Anakin rolled his eyes.

“I meant—you know what I meant,” he muttered, looking down and fiddling with one of his vambraces. They were still both dressed in Mandalorian armour, and under happier circumstances Obi-Wan would’ve told him the colour suited him well.

“You could easily spin it,” Ahsoka chimed in, curled up on one of the passenger chairs and frowning at her knees. She was too slight to fit into Mandalorian armour, so she had instead settled for one of her cloaks, which she wrapped herself up in now. He could practically hear her thinking. “With Maul involved, you could argue that it’s a Separatist attack. You could tell them that you needed to sneak in quietly to save the Duchess. A full ground assault might’ve gotten her killed.”

“To the Senate, perhaps,” Obi-Wan said, nodding. “But not to the Council. We received Satine’s distress signal before we knew of Maul’s occupation.” He didn’t add that Master Yoda had made clear his knowledge of Obi-Wan’s personal feelings on the matter—both when it came to Mandalore and Satine. There would be no hiding from the Council what exactly he’d just done. He glanced at Satine again, his chest tightening.

“What are they gonna do?” Ahsoka asked, looking up at him. Her frown did not disappear.

“I could lose my seat on the Council,” he said calmly, ignoring both of their shocked expressions. Satine flinched at his words, but she didn’t look away from the viewport. “Likely to appease the Senate if they don’t buy the Separatist spin. I did break a good deal of rules.”

_ “We _ did,” Anakin corrected him. “All three of us. Together. We all broke them.”

Ahsoka bobbed her head in an emphatic nod from her seat, her padawan beads rattling. 

“After repeated requests for you not to accompany me,” Obi-Wan reminded him. “Many, many requests.”

Anakin balked. “You’d both be dead right now if we didn’t come after you—”

“A fact that has not slipped past my attention,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “My complaints aren’t about your heroism, Anakin. I commend you both on that. But when punishment is levied by the Council, I will bear it, and I alone. Is that understood?”

Some of the fight left his shoulders, leaving him deflated, but his expression was still twisted, and when he glanced at Ahsoka, they both shared an uncomfortable look. “But… why?” Anakin asked, turning back to him. “That’s not fair.”

Obi-Wan smiled at both of them. “You saved my skin. Allow me to return the favour.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Pfft. The Council doesn’t scare me.”

“I know they don’t,” he replied, turning towards Satine. “That’s the reason I’m doing it.”

She still hadn’t moved. He wanted desperately to ask for her thoughts, to bring her into his arms and tell her that somehow, someway it would be alright, but he was very much aware of the two other occupants in the ship, one of whom was deeply interested in their relationship. He settled for touching her armrest to get her attention, and she looked up at him numbly.

“How are you feeling?” he whispered. They would not get time alone to talk for a while after this; he would have to savour this quiet in the meantime.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” she whispered back. She was not crying—there would be time for that later. But the exhaustion on her face aged her beyond her years. “Mandalore is burning, and I am here, fleeing to Coruscant.”

“The Senate can’t abide an occupation that could lead Mandalore into joining the Separatists,” he said gently. “Not when you’re the figurehead for so many neutral systems. We can find a way to fix this.”

“And when Republic forces invade Mandalore, Maul and the Death Watch will be vindicated in all the lies they have sold to my people,” she replied, just as gently, turning away from him in her chair. “And we will be at war once again.”

He sunk back in his seat, staring at the backrest of her own, trying not to curse himself for his mistake. It was too early to talk of solutions; everything was still much too raw. Satine had been in a jail cell only a few hours ago, for who knew how long. And what little else he could offer her—comfort—was not possible, not until they were properly alone.

Obi-Wan turned to the control panel of the ship, making ready to fall out of hyperspace.

* * *

The entire planet of Coruscant, and not a single place for her.

Satine watched the water trickle through the rocks in the stream, feeding the elaborate gardens carefully tended in the Jedi Temple. She’d never been here before; only heard stories of its grandeur. It was beautiful, and it felt no different from her cell in Sundari. 

People came and went—Jedi, padawan learners, and staff alike. Some asked her if she wanted anything to eat or drink; most left her alone, averting their gazes. She was an outsider here, told to wait in the gardens while others discussed a problem that she alone should be dealing with. She had known this would happen, but it still left her furious and exhausted. It had only been with considerable panic that she had contacted Obi-Wan for aid, knowing what the outcome would be. The man could not help but try to solve all of her problems, something that had not changed in all the years she’d known him; he just happened to have the full might of the Grand Army of the Republic under his thumb now.

Satine closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, turning her face up to the sun. It was quiet here in the gardens; the high terracotta walls even kept out the buzz of the city. She wasn’t one for meditation, but even she couldn’t deny how peaceful this place was. The air itself was calmer, and despite herself she could feel her thoughts mellowing. It would be easy to fall asleep here if not for how dreadfully uncomfortable their benches were.

She must have anyway, or at least drifted off so deeply into her own mind that she forgot the rest of the world, because she was completely unprepared for the polite cough that came from behind her.

Satine turned, blinking awake, and saw Obi-Wan standing there. He had changed back into his Jedi robes, leaving off even his usual vambraces. “May I join you?” he asked, sounding tentative and unsure. She wondered if he thought she would refuse him.

“Of course,” she replied, patting the bench beside her before turning back. He sat down quietly a moment later, settling his hands awkwardly into his lap. It made her smile, despite everything.

“So?” she asked, looking up at him. “Have you been expelled?”

He gave her a wry look. “No. Not yet, anyway,” he added, sighing. “Quite a lot of yelling, though.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It was—you were my last option. I wouldn’t have asked if I had any other choice.”

“I accepted this possibility the moment I flew Anakin’s ship out of the hangar,” he told her. Something in her chest twinged at the tone of his voice—not resigned, but resolute. “Nothing is final yet, anyway. We didn’t make much headway.”

She frowned. “How long were you in there?” It was difficult to keep track of time out here, even with the sun tracking across the sky.

“A few hours. We still haven’t told the Senate you’re here,” he said, looking to the stream in front of them. “You’ll have to stay in the Temple until we figure out a way to sell this rescue to the Republic.”

“A sales pitch I will be in charge of,” she stated. “You’re not thinking of doing my work for me, are you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.” He smiled at her, but it was sad. For all her problems on Mandalore, it was easy to forget he’d been fighting a war. He looked as tired as she felt. “I hope this was alright for you. I asked that you be placed in the gardens while I dealt with the Council. It felt garish to request you be assigned to my quarters.”

She laughed softly, and some of the wrinkles eased on his face. “Think of the scandal.”

“I’m sure many people already are,” he replied with a sigh. “Anakin has gotten quite the kick out of all of this. I told him to be quiet about it, but he isn’t fond of listening to me.”

“You mean a daring story about a man hellbent on following the rules suddenly breaking rank to save the woman he fancies?” She raised a brow, and to her eternal delight his cheeks flushed. “I have no idea why Anakin would find that amusing.”

He saved face quickly, but not quickly enough. “You think I fancy you?” he asked with a smile.

Satine rolled her eyes. “I can’t think of why else you would choose to do something so foolish.”

“Is honour not enough?”

She scoffed, turning back to the garden. “I know of your honour. I know you, too.”

“Yes,” he whispered beside her. “You do.”

The stream filled the silence between them. She wondered how true that statement really was—that she knew him. They certainly weren’t strangers. But he was a far cry from the fumbling, earnest boy she had fallen in love with so many years ago, and now it felt like they were at odds so often she wasn’t sure what to call him. Friend was too meek; lover too definite. 

She felt a nudge by her leg and looked down. His hand rested on the bench beside it, knuckles pressed into the stone. She folded her hand over his, accepting the offer as silently as he’d given it. Apparently his thoughts were following closely after her own.

Satine snuck a glance at him out of her periphery, watching him stare out at the garden, and made a decision. “How heretical would it be for me to kiss you right now?” she whispered.

His head twitched, but he kept his eyes forward. A smile curled his mouth. “Very,” he replied after a moment.

“Perhaps you should have assigned me to your quarters, then,” she told him, watching his smile grow. 

“Perhaps I know the Temple well enough for places more discreet than my quarters,” he murmured back. They were speaking so quietly that the sound was instantly swallowed by the burbling of the stream in front of them. She knew well of the Jedi’s ability to sense what most could not, but even the children playing in the flowers only metres away seemed oblivious to their conversation.

“I would like a distraction from the world very much right now,” she told him, and he finally looked back at her. 

“So would I,” he replied, with more understanding in his voice and in his eyes than had ever found in anyone else. 

She leaned forward, pressing her cheek to his shoulder, and closed her eyes. He unfolded his hand from hers to settle it around her back, pulling her closer. “May we sit here for a while first?”

She felt his face in her hair. It was warmer than the sun. “As long as you like.”

Satine smiled, seeking out his other hand in his lap, unable to help herself. “Is this allowed?”

“I have, perhaps, started another war for the Republic,” he told her calmly, not moving. “Any sin below that is one I’m not particularly concerned with at the moment.”

“Good,” she whispered, feeling a deep calm wash over her, greater than what the garden alone could provide. She didn’t know if Obi-Wan was doing it on purpose or if she’d been pining for his embrace more desperately than she realised, but either way, she found a way to feel content for a moment. “Because I’m not moving.”

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr over at [@oriyala](https://oriyala.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
